


Guilty Pleasures

by ioanite



Category: Forever (TV)
Genre: Autopsies, Fluff, Gen, Graphic Description of Corpses, Silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-17
Updated: 2015-04-17
Packaged: 2018-03-23 13:01:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3769483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ioanite/pseuds/ioanite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Despite his general reluctance to use technology, Henry does have one TV show he watches. Unfortunately, it's sort of meant for children...</p>
<p>Slight warning; this will probably be funnier if you have some knowledge of My Little Pony.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Guilty Pleasures

**Author's Note:**

> Just to be clear, this is unrelated to my previous Forever/My Little Pony mashup "Letters to the Unknown". Yes, I had MULTIPLE ideas of how to combine these fandoms. I don't know if I'm amused or slightly concerned.

It had all started with a nasty case of the flu. Henry wasn’t sure where it had come from—he’d gotten his flu shot as soon as it had been made available, and no one had been obviously sick at work—all he knew was that he’d gone to bed early one night and woken up mid-afternoon the next day with a hundred degree fever. Trying to “undo” it with a resurrection was out of the question; it was late December and trying to navigate the frozen chunks of ice in the Hudson river would just lead to disaster, a fact he knew from bitter experience. Best to just stay in bed and wait it out.

He was blearily sipping at a glass of water when Abe came in with the TV, the clunky portable one they’d bought back in the Fifties and had been using ever since. “And what’s this for?” Henry rasped.

“What do you think it’s for?” Abe answered, setting the TV up on the dresser opposite Henry’s bed, “Even _your_ brain isn’t going to be at peak operation when it’s fighting a fever. I know you prefer reading to television, but sometimes, you don’t have the energy to do anything other than sit and stare at a screen.”

Henry gave Abe a look. Abe just shrugged and passed over the remote. “Hey, I’m just preparing for every possibility. If you think you don’t need it, don’t use it. It’s just nice to have as a fallback.”

Despite Henry’s admittedly perverse desire to prove Abe wrong, his attempts to read any of the five books he was trying to get through left him with an utter inability to absorb the words at best and a splitting headache at worst. Giving up and cursing quietly, Henry picked up the remote, convinced that all he’d find was more nonsense. And for a while, he was correct. History shows that were wildly inaccurate, channels whose sole purpose seemed to be to sell overpriced items, and shows that seemed to feature nothing but people shouting at each other seemed to make up the bulk of what was on TV nowadays. Henry rolled his eyes, figuring he’d get to the five hundredth channel before giving up.

He had just clicked over a channel showing a bizarre cooking competition when he found himself hit with a blast of bright, peppy music. Blinking, he tried to make sure he was seeing things correctly. Yes, those were in fact pastel colored horses dancing around the screen, singing something about winter and spring. Henry looked from the screen to the remote and back, then shrugged and set the remote down. Whatever the hell this was, it was far more pleasant than anything else he’d tried. If nothing else, maybe it would help him fall asleep.

Two hours later, Henry had watched four episodes (it turned out that the show was called _My Little Pony; Friendship is Magic_ , and there was a marathon running the entire weekend) and was curious to see what would happen in the fifth. He honestly wasn’t sure what to make of his reaction; the flu must have been doing more of a number on him than he thought. Yet there was something just so… _pleasant_ about the show, something light-hearted and innocent that had been missing from the other shows he’d attempted to watch. And while it wasn’t exactly a “smart” show, it had its own internal logic and rules that it followed, which Henry could appreciate. The show was clearly meant for children, but he was loathe to click away. Besides, he was morbidly curious to see just how insane this Pinkie Pie could get.

When Abe came in to ask if Henry wanted to have anything to eat, Henry was chuckling hoarsely at the sight of Pinkie popping up out of nowhere, reminding Twilight of her promise to keep a secret. Abe took one look at the screen, blinked a few times, then looked over at Henry. “How much of that cough medicine did you take?”

“I know, I know,” Henry said, shaking his head, “But it’s actually a rather delightful show. Maybe it’s actually monumentally stupid when you’re not running a fever, but at the moment, it’s exactly what I need.”

“If you say so,” Abe shrugged, “You hungry?”

“Not really,” Henry said, turning back to the screen, “But I suppose I should eat something. I can probably handle a few slices of toast.”

Abe nodded and was about to leave the room when Henry added, “Oh, and maybe a glass of apple juice?”

“Apple juice? I thought orange juice was better for the immune system, with all that Vitamin C.”

“True,” Henry said with a grin, “But an apple a day keeps the doctor away. Besides, I’m more in the mood for apples at the moment.” Abe, giving him that “You’re in one of your moods, aren’t you?” look, just closed the door behind him.  
***

By the time Henry had recovered enough to go back to work, he’d watched every episode of the show (several of them more than once), and was able to name and describe every major character. Initially, he’d assumed it had just been a passing fancy, something to occupy his mind while he was laid up in bed. Once he was back at work, he figured, that weekend spent watching animated ponies would fade into a strange but fond memory. He had more important things to consider, after all.

Instead of disappearing, however, the ponies kept popping into his head, often in the most unexpected ways. He’d be looking over a body, catch a glimpse of a tattoo, and then the stories of how the six main characters had received their cutie marks would flash unbidden through his mind. Or he’d be making an incision, pressing down carefully to keep it straight, and then Twilight’s voice would be there, murmuring “Keep. It. Together!” Even when he was looking through paperwork, any mention of “elements” was immediately mentally followed up by “of harmony”. That was the point where he set down the folder and massaged his temples. “What the hell is _wrong_ with me?” he muttered to himself, “It’s just a program for children! Now focus on your work, damn it!” None of the other books, movies, or media he’d consumed had ever affected him in this way. Maybe he just needed a few weeks to get back into the rhythms of work, and then everything would be the way it should be.

After a while, though, he noticed something odd. If he found himself struggling with a difficult autopsy, or if Lucas’ chatter was grating on his nerves, recalling a particularly amusing or sweet moment from the show was enough to dispel the worst of his stress. It was as if the show’s positive energy was rubbing off on him. And if it kept him from being snappish and limited the number of careless mistakes he made, wasn’t that all to the good, really?

Thus it was that about a month after returning to work, Henry found himself stopping at the large bookstore a few blocks away from the police station. He generally preferred the smaller stores, but he’d knew that this store also contained a section set aside specifically for movies and TV shows. Even as he rolled his eyes at himself, he stepped across the threshold and started poking through the various bins, scanning the labels closely.

Eventually, he tracked down the TV section, and shortly after that, found what he was looking for. Pulling out four DVDs, he pressed them close to his chest, wondering why he felt simultaneously excited and embarrassed by all this, and crept over to the register. Thankfully, the cashier didn’t ask any questions, and Henry was able to leave the store with his purchases safely hidden in a bag, allowing him to make his way home without looking monumentally suspicious.

Even though Henry avoided modern technology as much as possible, Abe had embraced a few of the advances. He normally kept the TV in the den, along with a small, unobtrusive DVD player on those few occasions when he wanted to watch something from his childhood or put on a romantic movie when he had a lady friend over. The TV had moved back to its normal place after Henry had recovered, so Henry didn’t have to worry about reattaching anything. Unfortunately, though he knew how to turn on the screen and fiddle with the dials, he knew next to nothing about how to operate the DVD player. So swallowing his pride, he had to ask Abe.

Abe was able to explain it quickly and efficiently—it was quite simple, really—but inevitably, he asked the question Henry was dreading. “Why do you want to know? You’ve never shown an interest in it before.”

Figuring it was easier to just get it out in the open, Henry pulled out the DVDs and showed him. Abe gawped at them for a moment, then looked Henry square in the face. “Really?”

Henry felt his cheeks turn red, but he held his ground. “Really. It’s helping me keep my stress down at work. I figured having them on hand to watch whenever I liked would be better than hoping they showed up on television.”

Abe just shook his head. “Hey, it’s your money. And I’ve been known to have some odd notions myself. Just try not to monopolize the set when the game’s on.”

“You have my word.” Henry said, before slipping in the first DVD; he wanted to watch the very first episode again. He was about to suggest Abe join him, but Abe just chuckled and left the room with an “Enjoy.” and Henry knew he was on his own. Shrugging, he sat down and smiled as he heard Twilight starting to narrate the old fairy tale.  
***

Having the episodes at his disposal was both a blessing and a curse. On the one hand, it allowed him an easy way to unwind after a hard day at work. On the other, it just made it easier for pony references to creep into his life. Certain turns of phrase were all but guaranteed to make him grin, even when the situation wasn’t exactly appropriate. He’d had to endure several odd looks when he’d been caught smirking after Lieutenant Reece mentioned that a group of thugs considered themselves “crusaders”. Fortunately, he was able to cover it up by pointing out a piece of evidence that might help them track the group down, letting them believe the smile had been due to making a deduction.

Still and all, he was happy to have the show in his life. It was good-natured, funny, and occasionally heartwarming, and it was nice to have a beacon of positivity that he could access while being surrounded by murder and memories. Sometimes, if he’d been reminded too much of Abigail, or one of the lower points in his life, all he needed to do was watch a few favorite episodes, or even just the song that urged him to “smile smile smile”, and it could take the edge off.

It didn’t take long for Henry to develop favorites among the characters. He’d been drawn to Princess Celestia almost from the start; an immortal who had lost someone she’d cared about had been all but guaranteed to resonate with him. Naturally, he’d also been drawn to Rarity’s accent and fashion sense (she even wore a scarf a few times, which always caused Henry to grin), though her melodramatics were a little much for him at times. Pinkie Pie was good for a quick pick-me-up, but she was best enjoyed in small doses. If pressed, though, he’d have to admit that Twilight Sparkle was the one he liked the best. She was smart, always delighted to share her knowledge, and could be hyper-focused on the task at hand. When she’d suddenly and unexpectedly transformed into an alicorn midway through the show, Henry liked her more than ever. She’d been thrust into a new situation and was completely at a loss how to handle it, but was learning how to cope as best she could. Henry knew he was probably projecting onto her, but he couldn’t help but feel that they had a lot in common.

Even though it had been a benefit on his life, Henry tried his best to keep his new interest under wraps. Given that Abe still gave him sideways looks whenever he headed straight for the den after a hard day at work, he imagined that his colleagues would be even less understanding of his deep investment in a children’s show. Hanson would no doubt burst out laughing and immediately start ribbing him, Jo would just fix him with that baffled expression, Reece would glare at him disapprovingly, and Lucas would be making horse jokes at every opportunity. No, better to keep quiet and try not to grin whenever a reminder of the show came along.

As usual, though, there was one exception. Henry was at his tailor’s shop one afternoon, waiting for them to put the finishing touches on his new jacket, and was passing the time by perusing the scarves. He had just passed by an over-decorated red scarf when he found himself staring at a medium purple scarf, patterned with deep pink diamonds separated by tiny white dots. Taking it off the rack, he examined it from various angles, before putting it around his neck and looking in the mirror. It was a fine design, not too obtrusive, and thick enough to keep out the cold during winter. And its resemblance to Twilight’s coloring was uncanny.

Henry hesitated, running his fingers over the cloth. It wasn’t a perfect correlation to Twilight, but still, it could be construed as a statement of sorts. Then again, how many people would get close enough to see the pattern, much less figure it out? All he needed to do if someone commented on the scarf was to say he’d liked the design and leave it at that.

He smiled and rubbed the soft material between his fingers, making up his mind. As his new jacket was brought out and presented for his inspection, Henry removed the scarf and set it on the counter. “It’s lovely,” he smiled, nodding at the jacket, “Ring it up, and the scarf too.”

As soon as he was out of the shop, Henry swapped his dark blue scarf for the new one, grinning slightly as he tossed the ends over his neck. It was oddly thrilling to have a hint of his interest on display, as though it were a secret that only the very clever could figure out. He still wouldn’t wear it very often, of course, but it was something to keep in mind when he was planning out his wardrobe. Maybe he’d only bring it out when it seemed likely that he’d be talking to a hostile suspect, and he’d need to be a little bold…  
***

“Got a tough one coming in, boss!” Lucas said, sticking his head into Henry’s office, “The body’s been burned pretty good, plus he’s really burly. You might have to bring out the big guns on this one.”

Henry sighed. It had been a long day; five reports to write up, three bodies that had required autopsies and identification, and he’d spent the better part of the afternoon being shouted at by a mourning family who’d come in to identify one set of remains. Having to deal with this just as he was getting in the mood for dinner was _not_ what he needed. Still, it was his job, and he wasn’t about to shirk his responsibilities.

So he merely nodded at Lucas. “I’ll be along presently,” he said, getting to his feet and pulling out his toolkit, “Get the body as ready as you can.”

When he emerged, he discovered that Lucas hadn’t been exaggerating about the body’s state. The skin had uniformly been charred black, but he could still make out strong forearms and a broad chest; the victim had clearly been into lifting weights. Burned skin, large muscles, and rigor mortis all but guaranteed that they’d have a tough job of it. Henry pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to massage away his irritation. “What do the police know?”

“There was a fire in a gym last night, something to do with gas. The firefighters and police were picking through the rubble all day, and only just found the body. They’re assuming it was the owner of the place, doing some paperwork. It doesn’t seem likely it was murder or suicide, but…”

“…They want me to check and make sure,” Henry finished, “Well then, let’s get started.”

In theory, it shouldn’t have taken too long. Henry knew what to look for; clear air passages, pink lungs, traces of poisons or other foul play. In practice, however, he and Lucas were stalled at the first step of simply cutting into the body. The scalpel wasn’t thick enough to make a proper incision, and putting pressure on it merely caused the blade to detach from the handle, forcing Henry to search for it and carefully extract it from the skin. The delays weren’t helping Henry’s mood, but getting snappish would only slow them down more. Stepping away for a moment wouldn’t help much either. There was really only one way to alleviate the frustration slightly; mild cursing. Well, maybe mixed in with a little something else.

Henry didn’t do it often, but occasionally, when an impish mood struck him, he would slip a quote from _My Little Pony_ into the conversation. It was surprisingly easy to do, and as long as he avoided direct mention of horses or any of the character’s names, it would just sound like an average turn of phrase. Right now, he could do with a bit of humor, even if it was only funny to him.

So when the scalpel blade got caught on something, Henry bent over it, and on the pretext of tugging it out, murmured “Oh come on!” The blade finally dislodged, and Henry set it aside, taking a larger knife from his kit in the hopes that it would be able to do the job. It did successfully pierce the skin, but the muscles were tough enough that instead of making a clean cut directly down the chest, Henry realized that he was going to have to saw through the tendons before he could get anywhere. He sighed. “Lucas, grip the shoulders and try to keep him steady.”

“Having trouble?” Lucas said sympathetically.

Henry nodded, pressing his own hand down on the corpse’s chest. “Honestly, this day has been just perfect. This is turning out to be the capper.”

Ten minutes later, Henry finally was able to remove the knife (though it did take a fair bit of tugging to do so) and reach for the clamps. Lucas moved round the body to help him, but just as they were in the process of putting the last clamp in place, the clamp popped loose, sprang forward, and smacked Henry in the forehead. “Yikes!” Lucas said, “You ok?”

“I’m fine,” Henry said, grabbing a tissue and wiping the soot off his forehead, “But of all the worst things that could happen…”

“This is the. Worst. Possible. Thing?” Lucas finished.

Henry, who was in the process of reaching for another clamp, froze in his tracks. There were some things he could have brushed off as coincidence, but the fact that Lucas had finished the quote, with the precise inflections, could only mean one thing.

He slowly turned back and looked at Lucas, who was smiling awkwardly. “But you’re not whining, you’re complaining, right?”

Henry just stared at him. How had he figured it out? Was it the scarf? Had Lucas overheard him humming “Art of the Dress” that one time? What signs had he given off for Lucas to recognize what was going on?

Then his logical side started to override his shock. _Why_ would Lucas recognize a _My Little Pony_ quote? While it was possible that he’d been curious by something Henry had said or done and proceeded to do some research, there really wouldn’t have been too much evidence to go on. The only way he would have known those quotes would have been if he’d heard them himself. And watching the show just for the sake of teasing Henry was a little much, even by Lucas’ standards. Which left only one other option; that Lucas was watching, and apparently enjoying, the show on his own. What were the odds of that? Ten thousand to one at the least?

In the middle of all of this, he’d been staring at Lucas, who was starting to shrink into himself under the scrutiny. Henry saw the nerves on his face, and realized that Lucas was probably going through a similar uncertainty. Openly admitting your fondness for pastel colored animated ponies to anyone, but especially your boss, must be terrifying, especially if you weren’t certain how they’d take it. For the sake of dispelling the tension, someone was going to have to say something.

Just as Henry was about to ask Lucas to hold down the body, so they could pretend this whole thing had never happened, he hesitated. Really, was it _that_ bad for Lucas to know about his odd fondness for the show, especially if it was a fondness he happened to share? The young man could be irritating at times, but his heart was in the right place, and he did fine work as long as he was given the right guidance. And he’d been trying so very hard to draw Henry out of his shell. Shouldn’t patience like that be rewarded, however slightly?

Henry smiled a little. “Lucas?”

“Yes?” Lucas squeaked, actively flinching.

Henry attached the clamp and pointed to the clipboard they used to take notes. “Take a letter.”

The relief that flooded Lucas’ face was both obvious and oddly endearing. “Yes, sir!” he said, retrieving the clipboard and pen and waiting expectantly. Henry smiled a little more and bent down to look at the lungs. Maybe after they were finished, he’d ask Lucas which character was his favorite. It seemed the least he could do.


End file.
